


watch the moon crash into the ocean and the sun burn away the sky

by beetlejuice



Category: Mulan (1998)
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, One-Shots, grandma fa is awesome, li shang being an idiot, mulan being a bad ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1389028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetlejuice/pseuds/beetlejuice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Under the cherry blossoms and the sweet perfume of the earth, I find myself dreaming of ghosts and war."</p>
<p>One-shots depicting their ever-evolving relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
> 
> I thoroughly enjoyed exploring these characters and I hope I have portrayed them correctly. These are merely one-shots that are loosely connected together.

_Oftentimes, the most beautiful of creatures are the ones who are the most deadly_

 

Shang was more amused than angry when the new recruit, a young man coming from an undoubtedly sheltered and spoiled life, saw fit to insult and challenge captain Fa when he realized it would be a woman training and commanding them. Mulan hadn’t so much as flinched at his harsh words, her expression as still and unassuming as the glass surface of a lake. Her eyes glowed dark like flints spitting sparks as they rubbed against each other. She offered him the opportunity to fight her with the promise that if she were to lose, she would resign her command and take her leave of the military, the man, foolish as he was, accepted with a savage grin.

 

Shang only looked on with smug amusement. He would call the match; Mulan and the man met in the center, bowing to each other, the man sneering as he did so. The general looked to his captain, her hair free and loose about her shoulders, donning a man’s clothes. She was nothing like any woman he had ever met; she was not delicate, demure and certainly not soft-spoken. Her skin browned from the sun and calloused and scarred from training and war; in all respects she would never be a proper woman. He could never see her staying at home, kneeling before a loom as she wove clothing for her family to wear, he could never see her sitting docilely preparing tea ceremonies and becoming subservient to any man with her only purpose to bear children. She’d never stand for it.

 

In all respects, Shang should be offended by her mere presence, but instead he finds her beautiful and rare. It was like searching the world over for a creature no other believed existed and then suddenly turning a corner and finding oneself face to face with the one thing you’d been searching for all your life without realizing you’d ever been looking for it. She was alluring and dangerous, like a tiger moving across familiar killing grounds with her gleaming eyes and bronzed skin, her scars being the black stripes whipped across her body.

 

Shang smiled and began the fight with certainty that no challenger, today or any day would prove to have the cunning and power to send her away from the military, from _him_ in shame.

 

She moved like a snake, weaving in and out of the man’s strike range, delivering hard punches and debilitating kicks, leaving the man reeling away from her in agony. Mulan did not show mercy, not this time. She brought him to the ground, using her slight weight to pin him, her fists curled and ready to deliver a final blow should the man refuse to yield. Shang waited.

 

“Do you yield?” Her voice is hard and cold and uncompromising.

 

The man was silent as the irrefutable knowledge of his defeat sank wearily into his young bones, his pride shattered like glass that crumbled around him in jagged, bleeding edges, his honor stripped away by his own hand and arrogance. He swallowed thickly, the glare burning in his eyes being directed more towards himself than the woman captain straddling him and looking upon him with cold, dark eyes. “I yield,” the words might as well have been shouted for all that they echoed in the stunned silence of the men surrounding them.

 

She gazed upon him a moment longer, a warning he realized before she released him. She offered him a hand, a peace offering; he took it with grace. He would follow her, he decided. Obey her every word; it was the only way to restore his honor, only this woman his captain could return it to him now.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

_The flower that blooms in adversity_

 

“That was a deliberate attempt on my life!” The whining, grating voice the emperor’s councilman turned Shang’s blood cold, as he quickly pushed Mulan out of his direct line of sight, her three loyal friends hiding her from view. “Where is she? Now she’s done it!” He continued to rant and Shang strode to meet him, intent on keeping the rat-like man as far from her as he could manage. “Stand aside,” Chi Fu ordered, his voice high and piercing, “that creature’s not worth protecting.”

 

Anger sparked through his veins like two flint stones striking against each other. “ _She’s_ a hero,” he corrected Chi Fu, his voice low with anger.

 

“She’s a woman,” he spat out the word like a curse, his thin lips spread across his narrow face with a smug, terrible smile. “She’ll never be worth _anything_.”

 

Shang was going to do something he’d regret as he felt fury burn through his blood. He grabbed the councilman by his collar, lifting him off his feet with deplorable ease. “Listen you pompous-”

 

“That is enough,” the familiar, powerful voice of the emperor had him dropping Chi Fu like a hot coal as he turned to face China’s ruler who descended upon them, his face cold and unreadable. Shang felt his heart drop into his stomach.

 

“Your majesty I can explain,” he couldn’t really, but ancestors knew he would try. Mulan didn’t deserve death, she never had. She had saved them, all of them twice. No one should be punished for that just because they were the wrong sex. Shang, in fact, highly doubted that any man could’ve done the same as she had, nor _anyone_ for that matter. Mulan was singular, made of a different mold than those around her.

 

The emperor cut him off silently, waving all of them to the side. Shang had not the courage to defy the emperor of China, though he had feeling Mulan would, given the right circumstances. That knowledge sat heavily in his gut. He saw her bow before him, her loose hair hiding her face.

 

“I’ve heard a great deal about you Fa Mulan,” the emperor began and Shang had a feeling he knew exactly who told the emperor about her and he clenched his fists so tightly together his flesh bled white, his back stiffening as he forced himself to remain where he was. “You stole your father’s armor. Ran away from home. Impersonated a soldier,” Shang and three soldiers behind him cringed at his words as his voice hardened into stone, “deceived your commanding officer, dishonored the Chinese army, destroyed my palace and,” his voice thundered and Shang tried to steel himself for the inevitable outcome sure to come from the emperor’s mouth: death. “You have saved us all.”

 

Shang blinked, feeling as if his entire world had suddenly tilted and he was left struggling to find his feet. The captain could only stare in confused awe as he witnessed the emperor bestow upon her a fatherly smile before bowing before her. The world seemed to hold its breath as he realized, as China realized that yes, their esteemed emperor who was like a god to them was bowing before a woman, a person they had always seen as lesser than the men around them.

 

It was surprisingly Chi Fu who broke them out of their trance, who upon seeing the emperor bowing before someone, the councilman, without a second thought threw himself upon the ground. Shang almost smiled at the display, waiting for her turn and she did, staring at him with disbelieving eyes as if asking if this were truly happening. Shang smiled and happily bowed and then kneeled to the woman who had saved his life, twice and had in the end saved China.

 

He heard more than saw the entirety of the crowd begin to do the same, the people descending like a wave before her. He watched her feet twist and turn as she looked around her, undoubtedly awed and terrified in the same measure.

 

The emperor raised himself from his position and so to did China. “Chi Fu,” he spoke without looking at the man, “see to it that this woman is made a member of my council.” Shang’s eyebrows rose as Mulan’s back stiffened in surprise. He wondered if she would accept such a position, a part of him didn’t believe so, Mulan hadn’t left home to seek power and influence, but to protect a father for whom she loved most dearly.

 

Still, it was amusing to watch Chi Fu stutter out an explanation to reject her, “But there are no council positions open, your majesty.” A blatant lie and Shang wanted to shake him, to forcibly rip open the blinders on his eyes, to make him see her true worth that just because she was a woman didn’t automatically label her subservient to the likes of him.

 

The emperor didn’t so much as blink at the obvious deception. “Very well,” he said, “you can have his job.” The emperor gestured to Chi Fu who gasped and stuttered before falling to the floor in a dead faint.

 

It took all of Shang’s self control to not burst out laughing, though it tickled the insides of his stomach viciously. The three men behind him were faring far worse than him, snickering behind their hands.

 

Mulan only offered up a shy grin before she bowed to the emperor again. “With all due respect your excellency, I think I’ve been away from home long enough.” Shang only breathed a sigh of relief when understanding and kindness warmed the emperor’s eyes when he looked upon her.

 

“Then take this,” he said, gifting her the golden medallion of the emperor himself, “so your family will know what you have done for me. And this,” the sword of Shan-yu was carefully handed over and Shang knew the cursed sword could not be in better hands, “so that the world may know what you have done for China.”

 

A momentary stillness settled over them, like the first flickering rays of sunlight after a storm, weak at first before gaining strength. She smiled at the emperor and the heavy cloud of impending war seemed to lift and it was like looking upon the sun despite the darkness of the night around him. Mulan embraced him and Shang almost flew to her when the emperor tensed, but slowly his shoulders fell and his beard drew up into a great smile. Shang released a breath, settling back into position.

 

“Is she allowed to do that?” He heard Yao whisper, the stout man still dressed in a fine red, silk dress his face pale with make-up. Shang still couldn’t quite believe the three behind him could have been mistaken for women, but then again, looking back he wondered the same about Mulan. In response to the question they could only shrug, none willing to break the wholesome silence as the two finally parted.

 

Shang watched in strange envy as her three friends and former bullies gathered her in their arms. They showed no discomfort as they embraced her despite her being a woman, treating her as one would treat a beloved sister. When he found her striding towards him his usually sure and steady tongue had now decided to tie itself in knots. He struggled for something to say; there was so much he wanted to tell her. How much he admired her bravery and her loyalty even when he had abandoned her in the snow to die of exposure. He wanted to apologize. He wanted her to know how much he cared for her, but the only thing that came out was, “You fight good.”

 

He wanted to hit himself, as she looked both perplexed and disappointed at the same time even as she forced an unsteady smile across her lips. “Oh, thank you,” in an oddly feminine movement she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear before mounting her strangely, loyal horse that had somehow climbed the great steps unnoticed.

 

He watched her as she patted the horse on his great neck, “Khan, let’s go home.” And without backward glance she was gone and Shang felt something in his chest twist in agony. Out of all things he had believed himself to be a coward had never been one of them.

 

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought him back to attention, finding the emperor at his side. The man looked upon him with wise eyes, “The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all.”

 

Shang turned to face him, hope blooming in his chest as he idly spotted Mulan’s helmet lying discarded nearby. “Sir?”

 

The emperor gave him a look that seemed to wonder about his intelligence. Shang was also wondering where his well-educated mind had run off to. The emperor pointed to the now empty space where Mulan had last been, “You don’t meet a girl like that every dynasty.” With that the man donned his hat and strode off, looking quite done with the whole mess.

 

Shang didn’t notice, picking up the helmet and feeling the cold metal in his hands. Someone should return it to her after all.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Everything belongs to their respective owners.
> 
> Takes place after the movie. The Huns come back for a second attempt.

_War takes sons (and daughters) and gives back ghosts_

 

War beheld no heroes and gave no honor. The lands of China were stained with blood, the water running red as the bodies were burned, turning out their ashes to the winds. It darkened the sky, though no rain fell. She dreamed in red, of choking on her own blood and drowning in the howling wind as it brought her to her knees. She saw the faces of those killed under her command, most were young, only boys who should’ve been home playing with wooden swords not real ones. They haunted her fore she could not escape her guilt. She had been their captain, their leader; she had been supposed to protect them, train them.

 

In the end, it hadn’t been enough. It was never enough. Despite her harsh and unrelenting training the arrow still felled them and the sword still slayed them. Bowing her head she closed her eyes to stop the tears from falling. She would not dishonor them so; they had fought bravely, had died with the feeble hopes that their deaths would help push China along to victory. They had won, Mulan conceded bitterly, but the cost had been much to high, one she had been unwilling to pay, but pay she did.

 

Her shoulders slumped and her breath fell away from her body, leaving her crumpled upon the ground, her small form hidden beneath the lone tree on the hill, away from camp. She was tired. Tired of fighting, of leading her men to their deaths. A part of her wanted to run away, back home to her family and collapse into her parents arms where she could allow her tears to stain her cheeks and her mask of iron to fall away like crumbling stone. She wouldn’t though, she couldn’t abandon her men who stood loyal to her alone in spite of her being a woman, but most of all she could never bring herself to leave her general.

 

She was Shang’s second, his most trusted advisor and friend. How could she leave when he too looked so tired and weary of war? No, running would never be an option. She would stay by his side to whatever end the fates sought to bestow upon her.

 

The soft crunch of grass behind her had on her feet with a blade shining menacingly in her hand, her eyes cold and hard like ice. It was Shang, holding his hands up in surrender, he tried to smile but the attempt fell short and his eyes were too heavy for such an exhausting expression. She let a sigh deflate her lungs and the blade disappeared into her sleeve. She offered no apologies and he never asked for any.

 

He sat beside her, his eyes finding the stars shining coldly and distantly above them. “I figured you’d be out here.”

 

“There’s nothing you can say that will ease my heart,” she tells him bluntly. She had learned, after a long while that any subtlety was lost on men.

 

“I know,” he acknowledged grimly, “but still, I will stay.”

 

She snorted, leaning back on her hands. “Foolish man, you should be abed.” If her mother could hear her now she would have undoubtedly had a minor heart attack. Talking to a man, a man of standing no less, like her equal and heaven forbid a friend, was not a place for a proper woman. But then Mulan hadn’t been a proper woman in a long time and she hadn’t seen her mother in nine months.

 

What she wouldn’t have given to listen to her mother lecturing her on proper behavior while her grandmother cackled in the background, adding in her two cents every so often, the old woman’s comments never helpful or entirely proper. And her father, how she missed her father and his gentle understanding and his indulgence of her whims; he had certainly spoiled her. The thought warmed her even as the night grew cold.

 

“I feel the war is finally drawing to a close,” Shang said, interrupting the crickets singing in the dark glade. His position was almost relaxed, informal in her presence; his usual armor and cape were absent, leaving him in only loose clothing that fluttered like butterfly wings in the gentle wind.

 

“They are gathering for a final charge,” Mulan agreed solemnly. One last battle, one more fight for her to lead her men into the fray and to their graves. She would train them harder, she promised herself. Train them until they dropped from exhaustion, until they could pluck arrows from the skies and stop swinging swords without pausing for breath. Maybe that would be enough and she could fulfill her self-made promise of bringing them home to their families.

 

She felt his gaze upon her and knew his keen eyes could read her as if her very thoughts were spelled out in the stars. He was the only who knew her well enough to guess her thoughts and the depths of emotion hidden in her dark eyes.

 

“Mulan,” he sighed. His eyes dark with pain and sympathy, she wanted to punch him. “You can’t save all of them.”

 

War was brutal in its unexpectedness, in the random twists it took, stealing and sparing lives by its fancy. The only thing they could do was prepare those under their command and themselves and pray for mercy for them all. That they would all live to see their homes and loved ones again.

 

He didn’t have to look at her to know her eyes were burning with cold determination. Her face was grim as the night threw shadows across her face, her eyes shining in the dark. “That won’t stop me from trying.”

 

.

 

War came down upon them like thunder from the sky. A black cloud of shields, spears and armor descending on them like a macabre wave of violence and destruction. They met them in shining armor that burned gold, their stallions a stark white against the enemies matted gray.

 

It was chaos. Shields splintered spears and swords tore through flesh and arrows through the weak joints in the armor. Death came, smearing corpses across the mountainside; red and black staining the snowy white canvas of their battleground.

 

Mulan rode through the battlefield, her face devoid of fear as Khan pushed through the armored masses, ears pinned back and sharp, heavy hooves ready to cave in the Huns weak armor, crushing bones along with it. She led her men forward, her hands stained deep with crimson red that she could taste the bitter copper on her tongue. The gleaming black coat of Khan became wet with their enemies’ blood, trampling anyone who got under foot.

 

She kept Shang within her sights, his golden armor shining under the pale light of the sun as he stole another’s life with another slash of his sword. They fought and died and bled and cried until the sky itself began to bleed, the sun retreating behind the great mountain and with it the last remainders of the Huns. The men limped away, their mounts lying dead and cold in the snow. They never made it home, Mulan’s archers assured China of that.

 

Mulan allowed herself a moment to close her eyes as the arrows were loosed from nimble fingers and reminded herself that honor and mercy had no place in war as she heard the startled cries of the retreating Huns shot down. Put down like beasts for slaughter.

 

The world stood still and silent as the cries vanished in the wind. Mulan breathed in the cold air and tasted blood at the back of her throat. “Its over,” she whispered, opening her eyes to the corpses her men had become and she felt the tears she had pushed away many times over burn at her eyes once more.

 

She felt a hand rest gently on her shoulder. She turned in her saddle and Shang bowed his head in respect for those she lost. She forced her lips into a trembling smile and returned the gesture. “We will honor our dead,” he promised her.

 

“And then—then we can return home?” Her voice wavered for the first time in two years and she turned away to hide her wet eyes.

 

His large, calloused hand gently forced her head back to meet his, his eyes tired, but still warm for her. “Yes Mulan. I will take you home, I promise.”

 

If her voice wasn’t under the threat of cracking under her tears and weariness she would’ve given him a playful grin proclaiming she hardly needed a man to escort her home. After all she wasn’t some defenseless maiden; she was a captain of the Imperial Army, the heroine of China, bowed to by the emperor himself. She didn’t need an escort or a _man_ , but gods knew she did need a friend. So in response to his kind offer, she merely punched him in the shoulder, hard.

 

Shang flinched back scowling at her as he rubbed the offended spot. “Must you hit so hard?” He grumbled, grabbing Khan’s reins from her limp hands to lead them back towards their makeshift camp.

 

A wan smile flickered across her lips like a dancing shadow, a glow of mirth burning weakly beneath the heavy sorrow as she replied dryly, “Don’t be such a girl.”

 

Shang only laughed tiredly as their horses picked their way across the ruined battlefield. Their faces were still smeared with blood and ash and their proud shoulders dragged down by the weight of war and death, their eyes dark with grief.

 

The war was over, Mulan sighed. They were finally heading home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Everything belongs to their respective owners.

_Under the cherry blossoms and sweet perfume of the earth,  
I find myself dreaming of ghosts and war_

 

Shang brought her home as promised and stayed as he had not. His presence, she admitted was a comfort after being smothered by her well-meaning family. Fa Li fretted over her scars and browned skin, of the hard callouses that stretched across her palms and bare feet. She was pushed and cajoled into wearing silk dresses, with her short hair pinned up with her jade comb, though she refused to wear the pale make-up to hide her bronzed skin. She was not ashamed of what she had done, of the scars that marked her body or the callouses that hardened her hands and refused to slide gracefully through silk without catching on the hard, raised bumps.

 

When the general had first seen her out of her armor and in a fine silk dress with her hair made up with design in mind rather than efficiency he had to remind himself several times that gaping like an untested schoolboy was not at all attractive. For her own part, Mulan looked torn between amusement and annoyance. Her features were free of any make-up, for which Shang was grateful. Mulan’s savage beauty should never be forced to heel under the stern weight of tradition.

 

He smiled at her playfully as she struggled to maneuver the dress so she could sit down without it catching on anything. “I see your mother finally cornered you.”

 

She glared at him, her dark eyes no longer the soft, untested ones of the young girl masquerading as a boy when she had first entered his camp. Instead they were hard, shining like gleaming onyx under the moonlight, this was the soldier, the captain that fought and bled beside him in battle. “No thanks to you,” she replied cuttingly.

 

Shang’s lips twitched. “Women are fearsome creatures Captain Fa, forgive me for not wishing to engage in such a lost battle.”

 

Mulan’s eyebrows rose before a smirk settled on her lips, “Your scared of my _mother_?”

 

Shang raised an eyebrow in defense, “Aren’t you?”

 

She scowled at him. “See if I help you again when grandmother comes calling,” she warned him teasingly.

 

Their cajoling laughter ran free through the fresh night air and touched the fringes of the Fa household that sat by candlelight in the dark. Grandma Fa smiled as she shamelessly eavesdropped on the pair’s exchange. There was no demure glances nor coy smiles and shy giggling behind fans, there was only a man and a woman who had fought together and cried together, and who had lost and gained in equal measure throughout their struggles. Seeing the other’s true worth behind the gender-controlled facades they had been forced to wear for too long.

 

Here, they could be free of suffocating tradition. Here they could simply be as they were always meant to be, as friends. As equals. Grandma Fa watched them for a moment longer, allowing her granddaughters rich, unrestrained laughter to fill her ears and heart. It had been too long since Mulan had laughed with such genuine joy.

 

It seemed the young general was as good for her granddaughter as Mulan was for him. Grandma smiled, for once perfectly content in her lot in life and moved back inside the house, allowing the blooming couple their privacy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marriage.

_Forgiveness is the trait of the wise  
Love is the trait of the brave_

 

They married in the winter.

 

Fa Li had cried joyously throughout the entire affair while Fa Zhao merely watched them quietly, his entire being resounding with happiness and relief. He allowed the rigidness of his spine to soften and his thin mouth was upturned into a small smile as he looked on to see his beloved daughter marry a man whom she loved with her whole heart and who’s love was equally returned.

 

It was snowing that day, gentle flurries fluttering down like cold, wet kisses on their skin. The couple, however, seemed to take no notice of the snow dampening their fine, silk clothes or the flakes of snow that tangled themselves in their coal black hair. They only had eyes for each other.

 

The celebration had lasted all through the night even when the couple vanished half-way through, as was tradition, Fa Li remembered fondly, tangling her own soft fingers in between her husband’s rough, calloused ones and felt him squeeze back.

 

Mulan had happily followed when her husband—ancestors she was going to have to get used to that, _husband_ —had led her away from the people celebrating in their honor. For so long she had believed she would be left unwed for all her life or be forced into a loveless marriage with a man old enough to be her father, both paths had left her awake at night trying to calm her panicking heart and her quaking nerves.

 

After the disastrous meeting with the matchmaker she had truly believed herself undesirable. Who would want a wife who couldn’t even pretend at being a proper woman?

 

She felt Shang squeeze her fingers gently, forcing her past ruminations from her head and felt her lips quirk into an affectionate smile as she had found her answer. Shang wanted her, against all logic and tradition. He loved her for her fierce tongue and keen mind, how she refused to bow down when she believed herself in the right.

 

He loved her so much that he married her. That fact still left her dizzy and grinning like some fool in equal measure. Husband, she had a husband now, someone who understood her and would never want her to be a “proper woman”. Instead he encouraged her to speak her mind, to bend tradition and be his equal in all things.

 

She felt herself grinning like a loon as led her through the soft snow, leading them to the small stone bench that sat beneath the naked cherry blossom tree, its branches heavy with snow.

 

“What has you smiling so brightly?” He asked her, his voice rich with affection as they sat down on the cold bench.

 

Her smile didn’t waver as she brushed her calloused fingers across his cheek. “You,” she replied with a long-suffering affection. “My husband,” she added just because she could.

 

He smiled in return, his eyes bright with adoration as he stroked her cheek with cold fingers. “Wife,” he whispered reverently.

 

They leaned in close, their cold noses brushing against each other as they simply breathed together, relishing the closeness they could now share with no hidden, judging eyes watching from the dark. Their eyes closed as their lips met, a soft brush that slowly deepened, stealing their breaths away in a way battle never could. Shang’s hand found its way into her hair, releasing the traditional topknot savoring the feel of her hair, like black silk gliding through his fingers.

 

She keened quietly before slowly pulling away to catch her breath. Shang smiled, leaning in close content to simply let their breaths mingle even as his lips tingled, urging him to capture her own once more. Her lips quirked into a curious smile as her hands slipped beneath his collar, her cold fingers tenderly exploring his broad, muscled shoulders. He trembled under her touch and not all of it was from the cold.

 

Mulan felt her cheeks warm in pride and no little pleasure as she felt Shang shiver beneath her fingers as she ran them across his powerful shoulders. Never before had she felt more like a shy maiden and at the same time feeling bolder than she ever has.

 

With a tender smile he gently removed her wandering hands, chuckling when she pouted at him, more amused than disappointed. “Usually I would bid you to continue my wife,” he tells her in a low voice that makes something low in her stomach twist anxiously, “but I feel such displays should not be enacted outside in the blistering cold where anyone might happen upon us.”

 

She laughed at this, resting her head on his shoulder. “Very well,” she agrees smiling, her cheeks are beginning to hurt from the constant pull of her lips. “Shall we then, return to our guests?”

 

Shang nods, pulling himself to his feet before offering her his hand, she smirks taking it with a laugh. “As my wife commands,” he says, guiding them back to the party.


End file.
